


The Theory Of Everything

by superscavenger



Series: #CreampuffWeek 2015 [7]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: F/F, Stars, Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time, professor/student UA, some philosophy sciencey stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3188717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superscavenger/pseuds/superscavenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 7 (THE FINALE) - Stars</p><p>Laura Hollis never really had hope until she looked up at the stars.  And she thought that hope would always be small - then she took Philosophy with a new Professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Theory Of Everything

**Author's Note:**

> NB: Laura is somewhat OOC in this fic - for story purposes I have made her a little more raw and angstier. It ties in with the story. Please give it a chance!  
> NB2: It is a bit of a canon divergence. Not too much though.

You plonk your white backpack on the seat next to yours in the lecture theatre. This is the one module you really wish you didn’t have to take…Philosophy. 

You’ve never really believed in a God - not since your mother was ripped away from you when you were only 7 years old. You decided there and then if God really did exist, he shouldn’t be allowed to take people away. As you got older, your views adapted - God simply couldn’t have such ability over everything. One being could not have such a power. 

You know that philosophy isn’t about God, or religion, not really - it’s about belief and what fuels it, essentially. But it’s still…in your mind, you think it’s still useless. What’s the point in believing something if it bashes you at every turn?

You know the Professor’s walked in by now, but you haven’t taken your head up from your book, Stephen Hawking’s a Brief History of Time. Such concreteness in the world is what give you some life in your days. 

It’s only when the thud of books landing on the desk in the front of the lecture theatre that you pop your head up, to see a woman who can’t be more than three years older than you leaning on the desk at the front of the classroom… and boy, is she a masterpiece of humanity.

‘Alright. I’m Carmilla Karnstein and I’m your Professor, blah blah blah, pleasantries, whatever. Let’s cut to the chase. I know most of you don’t really want to be in this class, you’d all much rather be in Creative Writing II. I’m not stupid, this has never been a popular class. But here’s my deal. You listen to the stuff I tell you, you think about it, and you bring me back something that reflects you’ve actually absorbed the crap you learn in this class, you’ll get your grade and be on your way. It can be whatever you want. We clear?’

Most people are pleasantly surprised, nodding their heads and giving each other nudges. Ideas are flowing already. You can’t fathom how stupidly disorganised the class is. Anything will do for these idiots. 

‘Okay. So…philosophy. It’s the most broad and ridiculous subject in the entirety of the universe. Yes. I’ll agree with you. But you know why it’s so broad and ridiculous? Because like or not, you little fuckers, it’s everywhere. Belief systems run our entire planet, and ethics come into our lives every single day of every single year. Doesn’t matter who you are, we are all affected by what happens in our world. Belief is important. But only to those who choose to think resourcefully.’ 

You don’t really understand what she’s saying. It’s all just poppycock. You glance to your bag, looking at the book that you’ve been reading, wishing you could just finish that instead. 

‘People who don’t believe in a certain religion, or a deity of some sort… a lot of people think they’re the ones who don’t have clarity in their lives because there’s nothing in their heads to guide them through the day, nothing to give them belief that life is worth living. Some people even choose to say that these certain people are living in sin.’

You whisper under your breath as she says it out loud. 

‘Athiests. The anarchists of the religious world. No concrete levelling in their heads that tells them what’s right and what’s wrong, only their own thought processes telling them how to live their lives. Some people even take it upon themselves to give a view of what it might be like to believe in such things, even though they physically can’t bring themselves to do it; an outside view of religion, if you will. What I’m here to tell you… is that they might be onto something.’

You’re actually listening now. If she’s going to be validating you and your way of thinking you might as well give her two seconds. 

‘Anyone know of any people who are atheists? People with merit their field. Famous people. Anyone.’ She leans against the blackboard and picks her nails without even looking, scanning the lecture theatre.

The class is completely silent, people looking to and fro and just sitting there as if they had no idea what was going on.

You can’t help yourself, because the one person in your head is on the cover of a book right next to you.

‘Stephen Hawking,’ you say loudly, trying to convey a monotony to your voice to keep yourself disguised as disinterested. You still don’t entirely trust this class. 

Carmilla’s face lights up. ‘Right. Perfect,’ she says, her eyes lingering on your face; she smiles slightly in your direction, causing you to smile wryly and look back down at your papers. 

‘So. Stephen Hawking. Most famous physicist of our era. He studies cosmology, and he’s constantly trying to come up with the Theory of Everything. You know what else he talks about?’

The class waits. So do you, transfixed by this gorgeous, intelligent woman who’s captivating you in a subject you don’t even want to take. You feel powerless. 

‘Stars. He talks about their lifespan, how they’re made, how they die, the fact that what we’re looking at in the sky in the night is probably just a bunch of dead stars that aren’t dead for us yet because of light years, or some crap. But one thing that he says about stars… just in general. That’s what fascinates me. He brought it up four years ago. He said: ‘Look at the stars, and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see, and wonder about what makes the universe exist. Be curious.

‘I’m not going to make you all try and suss that out. He talks about stars all of the time; after all, he’s a cosmologist who needs to work with the concept and makeup of stars to create the elaborate theories that he does. But the fact that he still appreciates the beauty and the gravity of stars in the sky and uses them to inspire others is what interests people the most.’

You…you cannot take your eyes off her. Her profound words bring you back to a very…raw day in your past. 

It was the fifth anniversary of your mother’s death. You were out in the woods one night, just about to get back from your mother’s grave in the cemetery across the forest. You’d looked up and seen that the sky was cloudy for the last four years, every time you went to her grave on that day of the year. But this time…you’d looked up and the stars had been out. And one star just shined brighter than all of them. It was a star from behind you, over where your mother’s grade would be. You always believed that that star was your mother, telling you finally that everything was going be okay. 

Moving from your small little town in British Colombia to Austria was always going to be difficult. But as much as you wanted to be able to visit her on her anniversary, the pain kept getting worse. Every year you sat there and watched your father paralysed with grief, your grief not helped because of it. He kept saying…’your mother is in heaven now. God is with her. She’s safe.’ You couldn’t stand to hear that your mother would be in the hands of the being that took her from you. You had to get away. There was no other choice. 

You still watch the stars in Austria though. They’re still beautiful here. And you still look at the brightest star. It’s still her. 

You phase back to reality, and you realise that it’s almost the end of the class. You kind of wish that you hadn’t spaced out - what Carmilla was saying was interesting. Something she was being told was profound and captivating. 

‘Going back to the stars… let’s apply the same theory… that stars, maybe, they represent loved ones, they represent God, they represent whoever. It’s not important, as such. But a belief in something. What atheists don’t seem to realize, and I include myself in this equation - is that belief in anything means that you are guided. It doesn’t have to be a religious thing. It doesn’t have to be a political party. You can believe in the heat-death of the universe and and you can believe in black holes, and it still guides your life. But what’s also important is that we don’t forget and we acknowledge other people’s beliefs. 

‘I’ll leave you with Stephen Hawking’s final sentence from his book, A Brief History of Time. If there’s anything I’ve taught you today… it should be this.’

Carmilla walks up the steps, arms folded, slowly, looking at everyone until she’s looking at you, seeing the look of tears in your eyes and realisation in your heart. You feel so bare but you can’t bare to look away. 

‘However, if we discover a complete theory, it should in time be understandable by everyone, not just by a few scientists. Then we shall all, philosophers, scientists and just ordinary people, be able to take part in the discussion of the question of why it is that we and the universe exist. If we find the answer to that, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason -- for then we should know the mind of God.’

‘Alright, dimwits, class dismissed.’

Everybody gets up but you. Everybody leaves but you.

And Carmilla.

‘I’m guessing I hit a nerve, cupcake.’

‘Little bit.’ 

She walks over to you and sits by your side.

‘I’m sorry. But you know I have a point, don’t you?’ 

Of course you know.

She always has a point.

Your Carm.

‘You gotta talk to your Dad, creampuff.’

‘I know. It’s just… hard.’

‘You know your Mom’s gonna be there. You know that. She’s always there, isn’t she?’

‘She’s my star.’

She pulls your head softly so that her forehead touches the side of yours.

‘I know.’

You sit there for a few seconds. 

‘Carm?’

‘Mm?’

‘How come you're a professor this year and not a student?’

‘After last year with my mother it was time for a change. I’m glad you picked my class, creampuff.’

‘Is this even allowed? You and me?’

She laughs al little, kissing your forehead. ’This is Silas. Anything’s possible.’ You smile as you know it’s true.

‘Fancy some stargazing tonight?’

‘Absolutely.’

**Author's Note:**

> THAT'S IT! Thank you for giving Kudos, commenting, bookmarking these bad boys. It's been a pleasure to write them and now #CreampuffWeek is over I will be carrying on with my new fic There Is No Peace Until Darkness Falls. Buckle up, creampuffs. Thanks again!
> 
> PS - Yes, I did use the title from the new biopic about Stephen Hawking. I thought it fit.


End file.
